


Give Me A Break (Let Me Rest)

by Sandrine Shaw (Sandrine)



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Birthday, Flirting, Legends of Tomorrow Didn't Happen, Loss of Powers, M/M, Post-Season/Series 02, Pre-Slash, Protectiveness, Tumblr: coldflashweek, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-21
Updated: 2020-03-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:14:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23247595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sandrine/pseuds/Sandrine%20Shaw
Summary: The signature from the Cold Gun leading Barry to a deserted place in Keystone. The radio crapping out. His powers failing on him. It was a trap, and Barry had walked right into it like a fool.
Relationships: Barry Allen/Leonard Snart
Comments: 42
Kudos: 297
Collections: ColdFlash Week(s) Collection





	Give Me A Break (Let Me Rest)

**Author's Note:**

> A quick fill for the “How might Len surprise Barry on his birthday?” prompt on [Coldflashweeks](https://coldflashweeks.tumblr.com).
> 
> This is set some time after the end of S2 but pretends that Snart never went on the Waverider (and largely ignores Flashpoint as well), so it's a bit of a canon-divergent AU. It's also a solid week after Barry's birthday because I'm stuck in Writer's Block Hell (™) and stringing words together feels like pulling teeth, but I was desperate to finish something after not having posted any Coldflash in way too long. I miss those two so much!
> 
> Now with less typos thanks to Glitterburn's impromptu beta! ♥

"Barry, be careful. Cold has to be somewhere in that building. I've traced the sig—"

Cisco's voice abruptly went quiet the second Barry stepped through the door. Weird. Barry frowned and poked his earpiece, but the radio stayed dead. Not even static, just silence.

 _Great._

It was the worst time for a communication blackout. Barry had been out all night rushing from one Flash duty to the next, and while having his team in his ear was always reassuring, he needed their guidance a lot more now that he was about to face Snart than he had earlier when he was getting Mrs. Menzel's cat down from the apple tree in her backyard.

As if summoned by Barry's apprehension, Snart stepped around a corner, right into Barry's line of sight. He didn't look like he was spoiling for a fight, his goggles pulled down and his Cold Gun aimed upwards, lazily resting against his shoulder. For once, he wasn't even wearing his trademark parka. 

Barry allowed himself a second or two to stealthily appreciate what a striking figure Snart cut in a form-fitting black turtleneck and criminally tight jeans, before he sped off to grab the Cold Gun. Or at least that was what he meant to do. 

He reached for the Speed Force, but nothing happened. 

The lightning he was used to have coursing through his body failed to come. Without the momentum, it was like his feet were tripping over an invisible wire while his body lunged forward. Stumbling, Barry barely managed to stop himself from falling on his face. 

_What the—_

"Looks like the Scarlet Speedster isn't quite so _speedy_ today," Snart drawled, satisfaction in his tone as he watched Barry's struggle to stay on his feet.

"I don't need my speed to stop you," Barry shot back before he could even think about it, all instinctive bravado.

Snart laughed. "Really, Barry? Wanna test that theory? Go against me without your friends or your powers? I'm game if you are."

He pointed the gun at Barry, the muzzle glowing a frosty blue. The implied threat was clear. If he pulled that trigger, Barry had no hope of escaping the blast of cold.

This was a trap, Barry realized. 

The signature from the Cold Gun leading Barry to a deserted place in Keystone. The radio crapping out. His powers failing on him. It was a trap, and he had walked right into it like a fool.

He pushed down the overwhelming sense of panic and the helplessness he always felt when he was disconnected from the Speed Force. At least Snart wasn't firing at him, which probably meant that he hadn't suddenly decided that his life would be easier if he turned Barry into a Flash-sized icicle. Hopefully. Snart hadn't actively tried to kill him since he'd found out Barry's identity; he'd even come to warn him about Mardon and Trickster – but that didn't mean that he wasn't dangerous.

"What do you want, Snart?"

There had to be a point to this. Snart wasn't the type to go through all the effort and set a trap like this just to prove that he had the upper hand.

Snart lowered the gun and inclined his head, giving Barry a measuring look. "Think of it as an early birthday present."

"How do you know—" No, that wasn't the question Barry should be asking. Of course Snart knew his birthday. He'd always displayed a poor sense of distinction between reconnaissance and stalking, so why would this be any different? "Actually, no, forget it. _In what universe_ does frying my radio and taking my powers count as a present?" 

Snart shrugged and pulled the gun up again, away from Barry. And even if Barry liked to tell himself he had no reason to be scared of Snart these days, he breathed a little easier when he wasn't staring down the barrel of a weapon specifically designed to take him out. 

"Sorry, roses were out," Snart quipped.

Barry quickly hid the amused snort he couldn't hold back behind a scowl. It wasn't funny or endearing, he reminded himself. And he didn't want roses from Snart. Or any other kind of present, for that matter. 

He was about to say so when Snart continued.

"I may have overheard the lovely Miss West and her father at Jitters, talking about how you needed an intervention. _Slow down_ a little. Thought I'd help out."

"What—No, I don't need any kind of intervention! I'm doing my job keeping this city safe. It's not my fault criminals like you and your Rogues never stop. That anyone who's got powers thinks they can use them to get to the top of the food chain or hurt innocent people. They need to be stopped and I'm the only one who can, so I can't just take a break or 'slow down', okay?" 

"Is that so?"

"Yes, it is. Not that it's any of your business," Barry argued hotly, flushing under Snart's shrewd, narrow-eyed look that seemed to pin him down like a trapped butterfly under the microscope.

So what if he'd been spending a few more hours every day out patrolling since Zoom killed his dad? And yeah, maybe he'd been staying out most nights, running himself ragged, skipping more sleep and meals than he should have. It wasn't that he didn't get why Iris and Joe were worried, or why Cisco and Caitlin and even Wally kept tiptoeing around him. But it was worth it as long as no one else had to watch a person they loved get murdered right in front of them. 

Barry was just doing what he had to do. And he was fine! He certainly didn't need _Captain Cold_ to act like he had Barry's best interest at heart.

"So I'm going to turn around now and walk out of that door, and once I'm out of range of whatever power dampeners you got installed, I'll get back to patrolling. And if you want to stop me, I guess you'll have to shoot me in the back."

He held Snart's gaze, his heart beating a storm in his chest because daring Captain Cold to ice him had to be one of the most foolish things he'd ever done. 

When he turned to go, he heard the sound of the Cold Gun powering up behind him. He flinched, but kept walking. Snart wasn't going to kill him just to prove a point. He wasn't.

Probably. 

With an angry screech, the gun went off. A blast of cold soared past Barry, inches from his right arm, close enough that he could feel the cool sting of frost along his side from neck to toe. Determined not to let Snart's intimidation tactics get to him, he straightened his back and forged ahead. 

It took him a moment too long to realize that the open doorway he'd come in through was now a solid block of ice. 

"What the hell, Snart?" He twisted around to face the other man, who was radiating smug amusement. 

"Looks like we're stuck in here until that's all melted away. Could be a while. So unless you have a way of getting through it without your powers, there won't be any more patrolling tonight."

Frustrated, Barry pulled off his cowl. There was no point wearing it now anyway, and he imagined that his glare was probably more effective without it. "So your Rogues can have free rein over Central City while I'm trapped here? Is that your great plan?"

"I told you, it's not about that. Don't worry about the Rogues. Lisa got them on a short leash. They'll stay put tonight." Snart looked around the room like he'd grown bored of the conversation and something else had caught his interest, but the skittish look he gave Barry from under his lashes belied his display of aloofness. "Tomorrow too, if you behave. Wouldn't want to ruin your birthday."

"If I ' _behave_ '? For real? What exactly did you have in mind?"

Snart raised an eyebrow. His mouth curled suggestively as he took a step towards Barry. "Why, Barry, you make it sound a lot dirtier than what I had intended. Now I'm curious what delicious little twists and turns that brilliant mind of yours took there." 

Barry spluttered. He hadn't pictured anything like what Snart was hinting at. Well... not until now, anyway. Suddenly, it was hard not to think of all the ways he could please Snart, not to imagine how that drawl of his would sound like calling Barry a _good boy_. It was a distracting thought, tapping right into fantasies Barry thought he'd done a good job ignoring, and the physical proximity wasn't helping. Snart was standing so close that Barry could feel the warmth of his breath brushing against his cheeks – a stark, not entirely unpleasant contrast to the lingering chill from the Cold Gun.

Mercifully, Snart didn't bother waiting for a reply. "But to answer your question, what I had in mind is for you to take a little time-out. Stop carrying the world on your shoulders for a night. Have a pizza, watch a movie, catch some sleep."

"What, here?"

For the first time since he stepped through the door, Barry gave the room a good look. It was an abandoned warehouse by the docks with papered windows and graffiti covering the walls, but now he had a chance to catch more than a fleeting peek, Barry realized that it wasn't just a storage space. It had been repurposed as a kind of safe house. Still, it hardly looked homey enough to get comfortable. 

Snart's smile was smug. "You should know by now that I always plan ahead." 

He motioned for Barry to follow him. Barry hesitated for a moment, but he'd already walked into the trap – how much worse could it get? It seemed unlikely that Snart was going to lead him into danger now. 

They passed crates of different sizes stuffed with equipment, benches and boards covered with blueprints that Barry vowed to have a closer look at later on. Around the corner was a separate room that probably used to be some kind of office area. 

When Snart opened the door and Barry stepped in behind him, he was surprised to find an actual living space. It wasn't going to win any prizes for interior design, but it was warm and cozy. Wooden bookshelves, a couch with two big mismatched armchairs, a large TV set, and a table stacked with pizza boxes that left a delicious smell lingering in the air.

Barry's treacherous stomach growled when the scent of melted cheese and oregano hit his nose.

Maybe, he admitted, he could really do with a night off. He'd been spreading himself too thin, running on empty for too long now, and he knew it. Everyone knew it – even Snart, apparently. 

"Fine," he gave in at last, less grudgingly than he would have liked. "Just tonight. You'll let me go tomorrow morning, and the Rogues won't pull any kind of stunt. No tricks."

Snart cocked his head, regarding Barry with a curious look, almost as if he was surprised at how easily Barry had capitulated. It made Barry wonder if he shouldn't have argued harder, tried to push for more concessions from Snart.

"No tricks," Snart agreed. "But fair warning, Flash. Powers or no powers, don't think I'll hesitate to freeze your feet to the floor if you get off this couch to look for a way to leave early."

"Pretty sure that's not what people mean when they say 'Netflix and chill'." 

Barry's brain caught up with his mouth barely a second later and he felt a flush rise to his cheeks. _Dammit._ He really must be tired if his filter was slipping this badly, around Snart no less. "I mean—"

"I'm open for whatever definition of _chilling_ you suggest, Barry," Snart interrupted him, his voice a low purr that let butterflies loose in Barry's stomach. 

"I'll... keep that in mind." 

He didn't realize that he was gnawing on his lip until he noticed Snart's gaze fixing on his mouth, his eyes a stormy green, dark with intent.

Nerves buzzing like a live wire, Barry rubbed his neck and turned away before he could do something stupid, like kiss Snart. He tried to remember all the reasons why it would be a terrible idea. Only minutes ago, he'd been worried about Snart turning him into a block of ice – not very worried, admittedly, but he couldn't let this go any further unless he trusted Snart. 

"We should probably eat before that pizza gets cold."

Snart's mouth twitched, like he knew exactly what Barry was thinking. He flopped down on the couch, lounging lazily against the cushions and taking up as much space as possible. "Go on then. Take a seat. I'll even let you pick the movie."

The look he gave Barry was sly, the unspoken challenge clear. Barry's eyes flickered from the narrow space left beside Snart on the couch to the chairs and back.

 _Fuck it_ , he thought.

He grabbed the first pizza box from the stack and squeezed into the seat next to Snart, trying to ignore the way Snart's arm stretched out on the headrest behind him, hyperaware of how close the other man was sitting. When Snart leaned across the table to get the remote, his body brushed against Barry's, and even though his powers were suppressed, Barry would swear that he could feel the bristle of lightning on his skin where they touched.

Snart looked smug when he handed Barry the remote. "Problem, Barry?"

"Don't even start," he muttered. 

He flicked through the menu, finally settling on _Frozen_ , just to see Snart's reaction. It wasn't his favorite Disney movie, but the look of disbelief Snart shot him? Totally worth it.

Between the lingering adrenaline and the tension he couldn't shake off, the unnerving proximity to Snart that kept him on a knife-edge between anxiety and desire, he figured there was no way he'd be able to relax tonight. But with the warm weight of food in his stomach and Snart's sarcastic running commentary in his ear, he ended up falling asleep before they even got to "Let It Go".

And if he woke up in the morning with his head cushioned on Snart's lap and Snart's hand – those wonderful long, clever fingers that had featured in too many of his late-night fantasies since they first struck a deal – tangled in his hair, well... no one would have to know. 

Barry felt lighter and more energized than he had in weeks. When he finally left, flashing off to the not-quite-a-surprise birthday party he knew his friends had planned at S.T.A.R. Labs, the ice covering the doorway had long since melted.

End

**Author's Note:**

> As always, comments are love (like hot cocoa with mini-marshmallows, but with zero calories) and much appreciated! ♥
> 
> You can [find me on Tumblr](http://sproutwings.tumblr.com/), still drowning in Coldflash feels like it's 2017.


End file.
